


Incognito

by Nebulad



Series: Mien'harel [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, NB Tabris, Other, post-Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7681345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Señor?”</i> the oldest of the group looked between him and the nondescript door of his home rapidly. “Got a copper?” She had a large space between her teeth and lank brown hair braided back tightly. He frowned, a sense of foreboding in his gut. The children didn’t beg— they knew that to make money they must earn it.</p><p>He flicked her the coin she asked for and she bit it before jamming it in her ratted dress. That seemed to confirm something for the younger ones fairly bursting with news, nearly tripping over each other to get to her side first. The winner delivered the story. “Crows, <i>Señor.</i> They came right to your door and went in.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incognito

Gahruil was learning to cook. If Zevran was going to be an ass who left them in Rialto’s Alienage to go off and do something fucking dangerous then they were gunna occupy their time in putting actual _effort_ into their cover story. According to the rest of the neighbourhood, they were newlyweds who’d been forced to switch to a new Alienage due to overcrowding in Denerim.

So Gahruil did home repair. They bought furniture and tried to socialize with the neighbours (which was harder because they still didn’t speak much Antivan). They turned on the stove and threw food on it just to see what the fuck would happen, because they couldn’t go out and get a job. Zevran asked what their skills were and after narrowing it down to _lifting, killing, and stealing_ they decided it was best not to draw too much attention until it was necessary. Most neighbours seemed to buy that Zevran was absent so often because he worked as a servant.

They fucking hated that, but whatever. They were too busy all the time to think about it. Their barely lived-in house needed cleaning or something (Soris usually did that, rearranging shit), food needed cooking (Shianni was the chef), and absolutely no one needed to be robbed or stabbed (which took care of all Gary’s fucking talents). They couldn’t talk to the neighbours because everyone was weirded out because Gahruil wasn’t Antivan.

Which was why the knock on the door was so… not usual. Unusual. Or something. No one came to visit them because no one knew them. Maybe someone was running out of something and had already exhausted all their normal neighbours. Gahruil was bad enough, being standoffish and quiet, but Zevran... No matter how Zev tried to deny it, he didn’t look like he belonged in an Alienage. Zevran was outgoing and loud and the reason they had to move around so often. Crows couldn’t catch the Black Shadow if they kept moving.

They cracked open the door because they weren’t fucking stupid, and saw two elves in shining green and brown armour, daggers on their hips, and… face tattoos. Like Zevran’s… a variation in pattern, maybe, but Gahruil knew. _“Hola Señore,”_ the tallest one said, leaning against the doorframe.

 _What is it?_ They couldn’t decide which would be more disturbing— that they’d sent two dangerous assassins that Gary wouldn’t be able to communicate with, or that they knew enough about Gahruil to send ones that would understand them. Not being to understand their Antivan would be bad enough, and worse if they knew no signs.

“We are friends of your husband’s— guards at the estate he serves,” the shorter one explained, his arms crossed. It was too bad that Gahruil hadn’t been born fucking yesterday and that Zevran was only using the servant thing as a cover. It might’ve worked if he’d tricked some poor Alienage kid into marrying him for some reason.

 _Then you should know he’s working,_ they said tersely.

“Oh we do, but you see he is coming out with us when he is finished for the day. Buy some drinks, _sí?”_ These were the bottom of the fucking barrel assassin-wise. Not only was Gahruil the fucking Hero of Ferelden— not that it fucking mattered outside their country— but what sort of Alienage elf had enough money to spend out at the bar?

 _Oh no he fucking will not be. First of all—_ Maker, fucking sue them. They couldn’t let these greenhorns go without scolding them a little. They were… Zevran, in another life. They were Zevran what, twelve years ago? These two stupid boys who thought they’d come in and drape themselves over the door and that would be that. _We don’t have the bloody_ money _for him to go out drinking, and second he won’t be spending any time with two idiots carrying weapons around the Alienage._

“Perhaps you should be more gracious to idiots with weapons.” The tallest one was sneering which irritated something in Gahruil they’d _thought_ they’d grown out of after Amaranthine. Nate had demanded a dual, they’d given it to him, and just felt… bad about it afterwards. They’d killed a fucking Archdemon, they didn’t need to get into pissing contest with shits anymore.

 _Leave,_ they signed shortly.

“We could wait for him inside,” the shorter one suggested. “Certainly he’ll be along before nightfall.” They glowered at him. “We would just like to see him, _Señore._ Remind him to keep out of trouble, in the future.”

 _Maker_ they hoped they wouldn’t have to kill these two.

. . . . .

Zevran smelled like leather a little more strongly than usual. The close personal assistant of Master Arainai seemed to spend a great deal of time mooning over a leatherworker, which was frankly dull to watch. It was no great romance— she simply loitered outside the woman’s shop and jumped like a bomb had been tossed whenever someone entered or exited the place.

An easy mark, but Zevran was starting to feel _bad_ about it. Just a stupid child with a crush— the Crows full of stupid children who knew no better than to kill.

He doubted Gahruil would talk any sense into him— he would be lucky if they deigned to speak with him at all. They didn’t like staying in the shanty house of theirs while he went and investigated, but it was his fight. They’d been pulled into more than enough trouble with the Crows during the Blight alone— this was his burden to bear and when Arainai was dead… they would both see, he supposed.

The trek to the Alienage was frankly depressing. Houses got less bright, less sturdy, the smells became stronger and fish permeated the air. Rialto was not even so grand as Gahruil’s Denerim, revitalized under the steady hand of their Bann. This Alienage was a place of suffering, and staying trapped in it without being able to help made his _amore…_ tetchy.

The streets were oddly empty for the hour— some would have taken advantage of the late night to smoke without the scrutiny of their spouses, or surely he would see evidence of some sordid affair. The shabby courtyard surrounding the _vhenadahl_ was empty, however, save for a group of children who had no place else to be besides the streets. _“Hola,”_ he called— Gahruil felt badly for the children, but their home was no safer place for them.

“ _Señor?”_ the oldest of the group looked between him and the nondescript door of his home rapidly. “Got a copper?” She had a large space between her teeth and lank brown hair braided back tightly. He frowned, a sense of foreboding in his gut. The children didn’t beg— they knew that to make money they must earn it.

He flicked her the coin she asked for and she bit it before jamming it in her ratted dress. That seemed to confirm something for the younger ones fairly bursting with news, nearly tripping over each other to get to her side first. The winner delivered the story. “Crows, _Señor._ They came right to your door and went in.”

“ _Mierda.”_ He took off, feeling for the daggers hidden in his vest. He should have asked _how many_ and _were they armed_ and _did you see them leave,_ but panic choked his lungs and he all but kicked open the door, drawing immediately.

Gahruil was sitting in the kitchen, unharmed with food set out for him. _I tried cooking,_ they said, ignoring his rather _blatant_ terror.

“I heard—”

 _I bet. Sit down._ He stood for another moment, looking around as if the Crows were hiding somewhere in their sparse, one room apartment. Truthfully they did not even have _furniture_ big enough to fit even a smaller individual, unless they were cramped in the same chest Gahruil kept their swords in. He put his weapons back in their places, his pulse speeding as he sat down.

“The children outside told me that the Crows came,” he said, feeling mildly nauseous as he looked down at the food. They nodded.

 _Two idiots who thought they were smarter than me. They came in, they waited a while, then they left._ Something about Gahruil’s face was making him nervous, and he still neglected to touch the plate. It looked mildly burnt, and judging by the stove it seemed they’d had some trouble getting everything to work the way they’d wanted it to. _I can’t keep doing this, Zev._

His heart dropped into his gut.

“I… understand. If you recall, _you_ were the one who insisted upon coming to Antiva—”

 _Yes, and I still want to be here,_ they signed. _But I can’t just wait here for you. The kids they sent accidentally told me more than you have since we got here._ That sounded… ominous. His decision to keep them largely in the dark was a move to _protect_ them. They were worth more than him and his revenge— nobility twice over, a champion, a hero. The less they knew, the better. _I didn’t know Arainai isn’t your last name._

 _Braska._ “Close as I’ve ever had,” he said with a shrug, then stood to walk over and kneel in front of them. They allowed it, petting his hair as he leaned against their lap and shut his eyes. “I will be done soon, and it will be time to move on. It is better for you to remain here—”

 _You told me once that Rinna planned everything,_ they said. Low blow, a terribly low blow that still made bile curdle in his gut. _And before that, you told me that you’re not good at plans anyway._

“I’m managing,” he said flatly.

_You want to know your big weak spot?_

“I hadn’t thought that you were much better at plans than I was,” and maybe that was a little shorter than he usually was with them, but they didn’t usually use Rinna to make a point.

 _You don’t blend in anywhere,_ they signed, and he frowned. _The Crows found us here because of_ you. _Those two didn’t know me from any other elf here, but they can spot you from a thousand miles away. You want to know how?_

“I may as well,” he conceded, tilting his head back.

 _Because you’re not an Alienage elf. Your head gets held up too high, you’re not afraid of people. The Crows gave you that confidence and they can spot it a thousand miles away. So let me come with you, and be your eyes._ They were staring down at him, and he… sighed.

“We’ll move tomorrow. I have to go to Antiva City if I am going to see this through,” he conceded. “If you insist, then… we will work together there.”

 _I thought Rialto was where the Master had connections?_ A valid concern.

“Yes, and I found them. It is a network of teenagers making moon eyes at lovers and carting siblings off to schools— hardly worth my time,” he said dismissively. They grinned and he swatted at them, standing up.

 _Getting soft in your old age?_ they asked, following him over to the sink.

“Ask me again after I get my hands on the man himself.” He certainly hadn’t  _meant_ for that to sound flirtatious, but it seemed they were just that kind of couple.

_Well you know me. It’s the whole castle or nothing._

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know any spanish, clearly, but I always figured it would be kind of iffy to just avoid spanish altogether bc my main man zev.... is. I googled about gender neutral language in gendered languages and it suggested that the addition of the _e_ denoted some gender-neutrality which was why Gahruil was _señore_. I've kept that fairly inconsistent throughout the series, with it starting out just switching the gendered language repeatedly to try and keep it fairly neutral, and then using _is_ which was also a suggestion that I recently stopped using because I wasn't sure I was doing it correctly.... so now we've settled on _e_ and I'm open to suggestions.
> 
> [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) and there's stuff there that's neat.


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